


A Swiftly Tilting Planet

by orphan_account



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Kairos (Time) Series - Madeleine L'Engle
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-19
Updated: 2010-06-19
Packaged: 2017-10-11 18:44:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/115710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He crash-landed in Amelia Pond's garden five minutes and twelve years ago, and somehow the world hasn't stopped spinning. The Doctor can feel the planet turning beneath his feet, and for the first time in his life he can't seem to get his balance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Swiftly Tilting Planet

_...It is morning, Senlin says, I ascend from darkness  
And depart on the winds of space for I know not where;  
My watch is wound, a key is in my pocket,  
And the sky is darkened as I descend the stair._

  
He crash-landed in Amelia Pond's garden five minutes and twelve years ago, and somehow the world hasn't stopped spinning. The Doctor can feel the planet turning beneath his feet, and for the first time in his life he can't seem to get his balance. 

The TARDIS, which is usually dependable if not exactly predictable, takes to crash-landing in the general vicinity of his destination. They're skidding through space and time, with the brakes off and the steering wheel broken. His instincts are blunted, his internal clock is out of time, and he's dizzy with it.

So he brings along Amelia Pond, because she is at the center of it all, she is the axis around which all else turns, the polestar, the fixed point. Gorgeous, strange Amy Pond. He's off-balance around her, too, but in an entirely different sort of way and he can't bear to let her go. He finds himself reaching out to her, touching her back, her shoulder, gripping her hands as if to support himself. 

Now they're hiding from the Echthroi on a bustling planet that just happens to hang in the midst of a cosmic storm. He is explaining to her who the Echthroi are (they want to destroy the universe, and everything good. There are no original villains) and what they want with the TARDIS (stashed safely two seconds out of sync with reality), when he finds himself with an armful of Amy. It should alarm him, but he just pulls her closer, and tries to anchor himself in one place, one time, just for a few moments. Her arms curl sinously around his neck. 

"Doctor," she says, resting her head on his shoulder, "I'm scared." 

"Hush," he murmurs. He drops a kiss on her forehead, out of habit more than anything else, and tries to ignore her fingers playing with his hair. Her nails are black today, and sharp. 

"Please," she says against his neck, and she kisses him. Her mouth opens a little and she slides her legs around his waist, intent on her mission. Suddenly, for just one moment, his entire being is focused  _here_ , and  _now_. Her hands brush down his back and under his jacket. He shouldn't be doing this.

She doesn't remember Rory, but he does. Amy squirms against him, deliciously soft and tempting, and he doesn't resist when she starts taking off his jacket.

"Please," she says against his lips. "Just hold me, Doctor." 

"Amy," he says, and he means to say more but they get carried away. Her hands are warm, even through his shirt.

He pulls her closer, reveling in the immediacy of it all, and slots his hands into the curves of her waist. Hasn't he earned something just for himself, something good, after everything he's been through? He's tired of being a martyr. He's given so much, surely he's allowed to  _take_  a little. He's better than a silly, small-minded, half-wit human any day. 

"Mmm," Amy says, tilting her head back so that he can kiss her neck. "Rory won't mind." 

He stops abruptly. 

"Amy?" he says. She shouldn't remember Rory, he thinks with a pang. Something's very, very wrong. They're contorted into a ridiculous position, chest to chest, her long legs wrapped around his waist. His neck hurts. Her hand is in his jacket pocket, and she's looking for something. 

She's looking for the screwdriver. 

"Amy?" he says again, and everything slots into place. He grasps her wrists and pushes her away, ignoring her surprised pout. 

"You're not Amy," he says, and the Echthros, the thing that looks like Amy, screeches in frustration. For a moment he's wrestling with freezing winds and black wings and a horrible rent in space and time, a slash of utter wrongness, but after a brief struggle it subsides. 

The-creature-that-looks-like-Amy sits on the floor and stares at him, almost sulking.

"Now," the Doctor says, rubbing his hands together to ward off the chill from the Echthros. "What have you done with Amy? I know you have her somewhere. I'm going to find her."  



End file.
